Carpe Corpus
by brokenxinsanity
Summary: A Dalaric One-Shot. Damon dies in a battle and is reunited with Alaric.


What a monumental wake-up call. You could lose the ones you loved in the blink of an eye—and he was willing to bet, when it happened, you weren't thinking about all the reasons that could have kept you apart. You thought of all the reasons that kept you together. And, no doubt, how you wished you'd had more time. Even if you'd had centuries… When you were young, you thought time was a burden, something to be discharged as fast as possible so you could be grown-up. But it was such a bait-n-switch—when you were an adult, you came to realize that minutes and hours were the single most precious thing you had. No one got forever. And it was a fucking crime to waste what you were given. As much as we have free choice, absolute destiny is immutable. What is meant to happen does, through one measure or another.

There came a time in everyone's life when they realized that in spite of how hard they'd been running from themselves, everywhere they went, there they were: Addictions and compulsions were nothing but marching bands of distraction, masking truths that were unpleasant, but ultimately undeniable. Hatred is a bitter, damaging emotion. It winds itself through the blood, infecting its host and driving it forward without any reason. Its view is jaundiced and it skews even the clearest of eye sights. Sacrifice is noble and tender. It's the action of a host who values others above himself. Sacrifice is bought through love and decency.

It is truly heroic. Vengeance is an act of violence. It allows those who have been wronged to take back some of what was lost to them. Unlike sacrifice, it gives back to the one who practices it. Love is deceitful and sublime. In its truest form, it brings out the best in all beings. At its worst, it's a tool used to manipulate and ruin anyone who is stupid enough to hold it. Don't be stupid, he told himself. Sacrifice is for the weak. Hatred corrupts. Love destroys. Vengeance is the gift of the strong. And Damon was full of vengeance. Move forward, not with hatred, not with love. Move forward with purpose. Take back what was stolen. Make those who laughed at your pain pay. Not with hatred, but with calm, cold rationale. Hatred is your enemy. Vengeance is your friend. Hold it close and let it loose. May the gods have mercy on those who have wronged him because he will have no mercy for them.

And that's just what he was gonna do. Everyone suffers at least one bad betrayal in their lifetime. It's what unites us. The trick is not to let it destroy your trust in others when that happens. Don't let them take that from you. Your destiny is shaped by choice, never by chance. Beware the decisions you make, no matter how small, for they will be your salvation...or your death. Sometimes, there aren't any good choices. Sometimes, making the right one is hard... It's funny, but when you think about it, we're all broken. That's what life does. It knocks you down and breaks you and you either get back up again, or you don't. You either do things on your terms, or you don't. You let the bad things win, or you don't. You either let it break you, or you don't. Caring was dangerous. Caring hurt

That was all Damon Salvatore could think of right before Death took him - permanently, this time. They had been locked in a very heavily heated battle with a new vampire hunter - one that was easily ten times worse than Connor Jordan. This guy was ruthless and uncompromising. He could remember being distracted for a split second - and that split second was all it took. The stake pierced his heart - instant death for his body.

Too bad his mind was still alive.

_I stand on the brink of your mind_

_Living inside a nightmare from which_

_I just cannot awaken_

_Stand on the edge of your life_

_Just give me another moment_

_From which I will never awaken_

* * *

Deep in the center of limbo stood a man - someone that Damon recognized immediately.

"Ric?"

The figure stepped out of the shadows to reveal Alaric.

And then it was, that grief and pain made themselves known to him as never before.

His heart clenched painfully.

Sometimes it's from the crowding of life, the compression of responsibility and birthright and burden that just squeezed you until you couldn't breathe anymore. Even though your lungs were working just fine. And sometimes it's from the casual cruelty of a fate that took you far from where you had thought you would end up. And sometimes it's age in the face of youth. Or sickness in the face of health. But sometimes it's just because you're looking into the eyes someone you care for, and your gratitude for having them in your life overflows...because you showed them what was on the inside and they didn't run scared or turn away: they accepted you and loved you and held you in the midst of your passion or your fear...or your combination of both. Were it not for Damon's humanity creeping in his mind, Damon might have actually had enough energy to go and look for a drunken college student to feed off of instead of being in the boarding house. And that made the guilt even worse. When Death was upon him, it was not of black - the darkest color in nature. No, Black is the color of night. White is the true color of death. And Damon had witnessed the very true color of Death.

Have you ever had one of those moments when time just freezes? You know, when the world suddenly goes deathly still, and you could hear a pin drop, and the squishing sound your heart makes is so loud in your ears you feel like youre drowning in blood, and you stand there in that suspended moment and die a thousand deaths, but not really, and the moment passes and dumps you out on the other side of it, with your mouth hanging open, and an erased blackboard where your mind used to be?

That's what it felt like to Damon when he looked upon Ric's face.

"Am I dead?"

"'fraid so, buddy." Alaric said gravely.

"That would be just my luck," Damon tried to scoff.

"Welcome to your new eternity." Alaric replied.

In a Damon fashion, he retorted. "So where's the bourbon?"

Alaric's laugh could be heard throughout the foggy wasteland as he joined his friend willingly in death.


End file.
